This will totally work.
And I can’t help but stare. His bottom lip is slightly larger than his top one, making for an intriguing and potentially delicious dichotomy. A pillow-like mystery I am determined to resolve. And I bet he tastes amazing. He looks like he’d taste divine. Honest to God, I’m like a child with her nose pressed against the window of a candy store, salivating over the man.
“What are you thinking?” he asks with a quizzical amused smile. It’s straight up bordering on flirty. I just know it.
Premarital eye contact. How outrageous.
The time has come to show don’t tell. Besides, how would I find the words to express this genius idea? Without another thought, I lean into him and press my lips to his, hard and insistent. Adoration and horniness are the names of the game.
“Anna,” he mumbles, mouth moving against mine in totally the wrong way. His breath is warm on my face and scotch scented. “What are you doing?”
“Kissing you,” I mumble too. “We could both use a special sexual someone, right? Doesn’t this solve both of our problems?”
Ever so gently, he pushes me back. “Not a good idea.”
“No?”
“I think we’re better as friends.”
Oh, my God. Humiliation is mine, total and complete. “Okay.”
“It’s just that . . . you’re going through a lot right now and I think adding me to the mix would be a mistake.”
“Sure. That makes sense.”
His eyes are wide with panic. “Please don’t cry.”
“I’m not going to cry.” I sniff. “I’m just a bit embarrassed and quite possibly drunk.”
He pats me awkwardly on the shoulder. “You’re a very attractive woman, really.”
“Great. Thanks. Let’s just . . . I . . .” I trail off, because I don’t know what the hell I’m doing or saying. That’s the truth. What a disaster.
“Shit,” he says. “This isn’t working. Time to hug it out.”
And before I know what’s happening, I’m dragged onto his lap and caught up in a tight hold. Arms around me, Leif’s face pressing into my neck, the whole thing. I’m not sure who’s comforting whom here. He’s arranged me to his liking and the feeling of intimacy is nice. Confusing, but nice. I haven’t had anything like it in so long. The feeling of being safe and wanted and accepted. Even if he neither wants nor accepts me. Like I said, this is confusing.
“It’s fine.” A complete lie according to the tears flooding my face. The urge to run from this once more foreign and somewhat wild situation hits me in the gut. “Just a bit embarrassing. But yeah . . . I’m fine. I should probably go.”
His hold tightens. “No.”
“But—”
“You need to stop running away every time something weird happens,” he says, voice muffled, but stern. “It’s interfering with our friendship.”
A hand rubs circles on my back as if I were a child. It’s quite soothing. This man might just make a cuddler out of me because this is good. Damn good.
“My mouth made bad choices,” I sob.
“Shit happens, Anna. You just gotta let it go.”
I hiccup. “O-okay.”
“Deep even breaths, that’s it.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry about,” he says. “You’ve been through a lot lately. Get it out. All of the tears and stress and everything.”
I sniffle. “Can I have some Kleenex, please?”
“Um. I only have toilet paper. Sorry.”
“There’s some in my purse.”
“Got it,” he says, depositing me back on the sofa. Then my purse is lifted off the floor and placed in my lap. Apparently Leif is a full-service-meltdown type of friend. Which is nice. I need all of the support I can get. It’s nice not to cry on my own for once.
The blowing of my nose sounds like the brass section of an orchestra. But there’s nothing I can do about that. I’m a soggy mess of a woman sitting on his new couch.
“It’s a really nice couch,” I say.
His smile is small but sweet. “You know, I bought it for you. On the off chance you ever came around again.”
“Thank you. I’m so sorry I kissed you. That was a horrible, terrible mistake.”
He laughs. “I wouldn’t go that far.”
“I didn’t mean to . . . it was just, you were there and . . .”
“No problem,” he says with a trademark careless grin. “I like to think we’re getting all of our formative moments out of the way early. The accident, nearly getting into a fistfight with the soon-to-be ex-husband on the front lawn, you macking on me . . .”
The shame of it all. “Oh, God.”
He continues to rub my back. So comforting. Right up until he opens his mouth and says, “If you want to proposition me again in a couple of months then we can revisit the topic if you’re still interested.”
And now he’s definitely just being kind and trying to salve my pride. Thank goodness I stopped crying, at least. “It never happened and we are never discussing it again.”
“Well, that’s sad.”
I snort. This is the most embarrassing situation. And forgetting all of my lines in the grade-four play in front of the whole damn school wasn’t great. But this foolhardy performance in front of just one person is somehow far and away worse.
“Do you need more hugging?” he offers.
“No, thank you. I’m think I’m okay now.
“You know, you have an impressive amount of shit in that purse,” he says, peeking into the bag on my lap.
“It’s just my everyday stuff.”
“Huh.” He sticks his nose in a little further. “You won’t believe this, but I’ve actually been known to leave the house without a single tube of lip balm.”
“Shocking.”
“It’s real living-on-the-edge-type stuff, isn’t it?” he asks with that amused twinkle in his eye. “Sometimes I don’t even have a USB flash drive on me either.”
“I used to use it for work.”
“And the little notepad?”
“It’s not a notepad, its blotting paper for when your face gets shiny.”
“Right. That makes sense. What about the . . . is that a stain eraser pen? Holy shit, it is.” His hand rifles through the contents, making itself at home. “What kind of careless bastard am I to attempt life without one of those babies on my person at all times?”
“A stained one.”
He snorts. “Feel better?”
“I don’t know.” Only I must. Because when he smiles at me, I can’t help but smile back. The man is magic.
“There we go,” he says softly. Once again, Leif has made everything better. He is a great friend, loyal, kind, and true. I can only aspire to be as sweet as he is.
That my lips are still tingling doesn’t matter at all. “Let’s give being friends another go. I’ll try not to mess it up by running away, starting a fight, or throwing myself at you this time.”
He grins. “Promises, promises.”